Hlustaðu og lestu

During a mission on planet Tragul, I have the misfortune to get stranded with Lieutenant Agan Drankai, the most arrogant prick in the entire alien army of the country Ravie. I save his life during combat. But the big, tough Agan isn't too pleased having a "tiny" female as a mission partner.

When he and I end up separated from the rest, we get captured and brought to a secret lab supposedly operated by our allies. A rogue scientist performs an illegal experiment on Agan, which finally allows the cocky lieutenant to get a taste of his own medicine.

The tough guy is now no bigger than my palm.

He thought he hated fighting side by side with a woman before? Now, he literally has to be carried back to his army base by one. And the safest way for me to do that is to stuff him in my bra.

Despite his small size, Agan's ego remains as big as ever, but so are his confidence, courage, and loyalty. The better I get to know him, the more I find his "little self" growing on me.

How much does the size really matter? And does it matter at all?

Contains mature themes.

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Hljóðbók: 31 januari 2023